Absent Angels
by PrinceParker
Summary: Armin, a struggling young man living on his own in an old, rundown town, has his life turned completely around when he has a chance encounter with a woman that is lost, scared, and covered in someone else's blood.
1. Autumn

The world was always a little more perfect in autumn – still, quiet, cool, and peaceful, just as autumn should always be. Every year the leaves would fall from the trees and line the sidewalks with beautiful warm colors. The temperatures would drop and the air would smell crisp and welcoming. Everyone would begin to break out their winter clothes and bundle up for the impending cold months ahead.

There was no doubt in Armin's mind that this was his favorite season of all.

It had become tradition for him to wake up early on the first day of autumn, go to his favorite coffee shop, purchase something warm and soothing, and take a walk through the park before the world was entirely awake, when everyone was just preparing for their alarms to sound and their sleep to be disturbed. So far, his tradition remained unbroken.

"Hi, Petra," he called out as he stepped inside of the shop. The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted around the café and he couldn't help but to take a deep breath as he approached the counter.

"We're not even open yet, Armin," Petra called over her shoulder as she continued to grind some fresh coffee beans. "You always come in way too early."

"I know, but I like to come in early," he said with a smile. "I can always help you if you'd like."

"You don't even work here. My shop, my work, my paycheck." She stepped over to a coffee pot as it sounded, signaling that it was done brewing. "Medium roast, right?"

Armin mumbled a quiet affirmation as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins and a dollar bill. Petra set to work to prepare his beverage just the way he liked it – with a bit of cream, two sugars, and a pump of vanilla syrup. Not too sweet, not too bitter, he would always say, though she could almost guarantee that it was far too sweet for her with that pump of vanilla he always insisted on having.

"$1.50, plus a tip for me," she chuckled as she forced a lid onto the paper cup before sliding it towards him.

Armin's cheeks flared pink as soon as he realized that he had forgotten extra change to give to her. "I-I'm sorry, Petra, I forgot to grab—"

"Put it all in the tip jar and I'll pay for you today, how about that?"

"Oh, thank you! I really—"

"But I expect a $5.00 tip next time you come in!"

"Aww, come on, I'm poor…" He picked up his coffee and took a quick sip of it.

"We're all poor. Go turn someone in to the police or something. You could get a $5.00 reward out of it, then bring it back to me!"

"Yeah, or I could not risk my life leading a criminal by the hand to the police and give you a tip later, ya greedy thief," he said sarcastically.

Petra laughed heartily and returned to grinding. "Relax, I'm kidding! But seriously, we're all broke around here at this point. How's the job hunt going, by the way?"

"Not incredibly well…" He set his cup back down on the counter and leaned against it with his arms crossed.

"Really? Nothing has come back so far?"

"Nothing…"

"You still doing freelance work?"

"Yeah, here and there. I haven't written a thing in a week, though. Nobody's hiring freelance writers right now."

"Hm…" She set the grinder aside once more and pulled out an empty, tin coffee can. "Well, I would hire you here if I didn't already have enough employees, but between Auruo, Gunter, Eld and I we've got this place well maintained from morning to night."

"You don't need anyone to clean bathrooms or anything for minimum wage?"

"Nah, I've got Auruo on that," she snickered. "He hates it so much, but at least I get a show out of it."

Armin let out a half-hearted laugh as he stared at the restroom doors in the back of the shop. He was becoming desperate, and he really was willing to scrub toilets and clean urinals for a few dollars every week. Anything was better than nothing. His rent was becoming unmanageable, his fridge seemed to be empty most of the time, and he had to go without electricity fairly often. Things were better when his best friend Eren was around, but he knew that it would never be the same as it was back then, even if Eren were to come back somehow.

"Hey."

Armin flinched and looked back at Petra who was eyeing him closely. "W-What?"

"You're thinking about him again, huh?"

"Oh, um…" He avoided her hard gaze as best he could, but he knew that he couldn't lie to her. "Yeah…"

She let out a small sigh and reached out to squeeze his hand in support. "I know it's hard, but things will get better soon. There's a time and a place for everything, and maybe it was just his time. And soon enough it'll be yours too. Your time will come where you're stable and safe and in a better place and happy. I know it's hard right now, but you can do this. Okay?"

Armin tried his best to force a smile for her, but it wouldn't come to him.

"Come on, you're only 23. You still have a long life ahead of you. This is just the beginning, and trust me, the beginning is the hardest part." She let go of his hand and grinned brightly at him. "You'll be fine."

Armin nodded and managed to grin back at her. He picked up his coffee and headed towards the door. "Well, it's the first day of autumn."

"Oh! Your tradition!"

"Yeah. I'm gonna head over there, then."

"Good! Get out of my shop! You're scaring away the customers."

"You mean the 5:40 AM roaches and mice?"

"Get out!" She threw an old washcloth towards him playfully as he narrowly escaped the shop. He couldn't help but laugh happily as he walked away from the café and towards the park.

Armin couldn't deny how well Petra made his coffee each time she prepared it for him – not too sweet, not too bitter; just the way he liked it. Nobody else seemed to get the flavor right, but she had truly mastered it. He smiled to himself as he took a long swig of the warm drink.

The park wasn't a long walk from the coffee house. It was only a few blocks away, and the view of the city on the way there was truly beautiful. The sun always rose at just the right angle over the rooftops, some of the shops nearby were dark and unopen, others were just turning on their lights and preparing to unlock their doors, and the groggy feeling hanging over everything was very sobering during autumn. Every once in a while a car would drive by or someone on a bike would pass him, but for the most part the city was quiet during the early morning. Most people's days didn't start until about 7:00 AM or later unless they chose to start them earlier. Armin usually chose to wake up around the same time that the rest of the people in town did, but every once in a while he decided to set his morning alarm a few hours forward and rise before the sun or anyone else. The first day of autumn was special, however, and he always made a note to get up promptly to get coffee and go to the park each year.

The park was a bit isolated from the rest of the city without any houses or businesses too close by. For the most part it stood alone, which made it the perfect place for anyone to go if they wanted to be in a place that was still in town but was quiet and rather serene. Armin quickened his pace as he saw it come into view just around the corner of Binns Road and Neighborhood Lane.

He walked briskly across the street and towards the sidewalks on the other side of the road. He was careful to step over the curb once he was there. The leaves beneath his feet gave a satisfying crunch each time he stepped on them, and he couldn't help but to smile at the sound as it reached his ears.

Armin took in a deep breath as he relaxed and sat down on an old, partially rotted wooden bench nearby. Most everything in town was fairly well aged, so it wasn't uncommon for something as trivial as a bench to be falling apart. There was something about it that he liked, though, so he didn't mind it in the slightest.

A gentle gust of air blew around him, whipping his long hair across his face and off his shoulders. He reached up with one hand to try and smooth the strands back out. He hadn't had his hair cut in such a long time, he couldn't help but reminisce, but he didn't mind. He rather liked growing it out. It had been fairly long all of his life, anyways. Eren had really liked it a lot when he was around, too.

He sighed quietly and let his hand fall back to his coffee cup. He just couldn't get Eren off his mind. Each year Eren ended up getting stuck in his thoughts for at least a few weeks at a time. It was torture. All Armin wanted to do was move on with his life and let the past go, but Eren couldn't seem to leave his memory for more than a few minutes at a time these days.

Just before he could begin to think on it any further, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and heard his call ringtone go off. He pulled it out and checked the screen. He instantly began to smile as he read the caller ID. He answered it and brought the phone up to his ear.

"Hey!" he said cheerfully.

"Happy autumn…" a very tired-sounding voice answered from the other end.

"Are you still in bed, Mikasa?"

"Mhm…"

"You're always up early, though."

"My alarm went off late today. I planned on sleeping in, but then I remembered that today was autumn."

"Hm. Were you out late?"

"Yeah. Historia wanted someone to go to the club with, but I just ended up getting drunk and going home. It was dumb. You should have been there."

"Why would I have wanted to go if it was dumb?"

"Because you would have realized faster than I did how dumb it was and you would have gotten us out of there."

Armin chuckled to himself. "I suppose." He brought his coffee cup to his lips and took another sip from it. He peered out of the corner of his eye as he lowered it again and noticed that a person was walking his way. They were a far ways off and he couldn't see them well at all, but he was still surprised to see that someone else in town was awake at this hour.

"So how's your morning going so far?" Mikasa asked, punctuating her question with a long yawn.

"Oh, it's…fine," Armin mumbled. He kept his eyes on the far-off person for a moment longer, then looked away, opting instead to steal glances at them every once in a while.

"You don't sound like it's fine."

"No, no, really, it's fine. I was just distracted."

"By?"

"I… Uh… I'm not sure?"

"Are you thinking about him again?"

Armin paused for a moment and fingered the side of the plastic coffee lid. "Just a little."

"Same here."

"You miss him, too?"

"Of course."

"Well, I guess it's nice to know that I'm not the only one."

"You're definitely not. How's your coffee today?"

"Perfect, as usual."

"Petra still lets you in way before opening, huh?"

"Well, she doesn't let me, but I go in anyways."

Mikasa chuckled and let out a satisfied sigh. "Nothing's changed since I left."

"Other than the thing with Eren? Not really." He took another glance at the person walking towards him. He could at least make out that they were probably a woman by the more defined shape of their silhouette as they came closer. "Oh! Wait! Jean and Marco are getting married. That's changed, too."

"Jean's finally over me?"

"I guess. He still asks about you once in a while."

"Tell him I'm still thousands of miles away and I'm still not coming back."

"I'll be sure to let him know."

"Good. Let me call you back, I need to shower and put some coffee on before I head in to work."

"Alright. Talk to you soon, then."

They hung up without another word. They had both learned in their own time that they were pretty bad at goodbyes, so they opted instead to always end their conversations with fewer farewells and more promises to talk to each other again as soon as they had the time. Armin put his phone back into his pocket and looked once more at the person walking towards him.

He could finally make out her features. She was blonde, and had very pale skin. She was wearing a light blue, unzipped jacket and black pants. Her shirt was white with something red on it. As she came closer, he could see that there was some red on her jacket, too. It didn't quite look like a design. It looked like it was splattered. Maybe it was paint? He squinted to try and get a better view.

She seemed to be unbalanced and slow as she walked. Her clothes were dirty and wrinkled, and her hair was a mess. Armin stood up, sensing that something wasn't right, and set his coffee on the bench. He walked quickly up to her, trying not to seem threatening or dangerous. She didn't seem to notice him, though, until he got close enough to finally see her face.

Hey eyes were a piercing blue, and her nose was very pronounced. Her cheeks were flushed and her breathing was uneven. Her clothes were stained deeply with the red paint. No, it wasn't paint. It was too dark to be paint.

It was blood. A lot of blood.

Armin covered his mouth with a shaking hand and slowly, quietly spoke. "Y-You're covered in…"

The girl looked up at him with pleading, terrified eyes. She raised her hands palm-side up to show that they were drenched and stained with the liquid.

"Please, help me," she mumbled. "You have to help me."


	2. Realization

The remainder of the day was a blur for Armin. All he could clearly remember was running into a girl, finding that she was covered in blood, and taking her by the hand to lead her back to his home. He didn't notice at the time that he was getting blood on his own hands in the process. It only started to bother him when he was helping to clean the mess off of her skin and realized that he would have to clean himself up as well.

After that point, everything seemed to run together. It was almost as if the rest of the day didn't happen. He managed to come to his senses somewhat when he laid down in his bed and relaxed a bit. It gave him a chance to reflect on what had happened that he could coherently recall.

"Why did I help her?" he asked himself. "Why did I bring her to my house? Why didn't I call the police? What am I doing…?"

He sighed deeply and ran his hands through his hair. Everything had turned into a huge mess in just a matter of a few hours. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to check the time.

8:48 AM. They had met at about 6:00, he was sure. The park wasn't far from his house, and it only took about 20 minutes to walk there, 15 if he were leaving from the coffee house. How had it taken them more than two hours to get home and get washed up? It shouldn't have taken more than half an hour, he thought. Then again, it wasn't too surprising to him. A woman approaching him covered in blood and begging for help was strange enough; a few lost hours was fairly normal at this point.

Armin's phone started to ring in his hand, causing him to flinch in surprise. He checked the caller ID and answered.

"Mikasa!" he said a bit louder than he intended.

"Hey, I called you back two other times. Are you okay?" she asked.

"Oh, uh, y-yeah, I'm okay," he stuttered. "Just busy is all."

"You're never busy on the first day of autumn."

"I, uh… I am busy on this particular first day of autumn." He rolled out of bed and stumbled as his feet touched the ground.

"Okay…" she said with a hint of doubt in her voice. "What are you busy with, then?"

Armin paused as he hurried to think of an excuse. "Cooking! I am busy cooking!"

"Cooking? You never cook."

"I-I do today!"

"The usual grilled cheese and canned soup, right? While you're making that, try learning how to make something healthier. You need to eat things that are better than a sandwich every once in a while."

Armin laughed tensely and swallowed. "Well, I guess I'll add that to my…ever-expanding list of things that I should do."

"Mhm," she said absently.

Armin used the pause in their conversation to his advantage and slowly opened his bedroom door to peer out into the connected living room. He scanned the area for anything abnormal or out of place. At first glance everything seemed fine, but when his eyes landed on the couch, he saw a pair of small, bare feet sticking out from beneath a blanket. He gasped and covered his mouth quickly in a failed attempt to mask the noise.

"Are you alright?" Mikasa asked from the other end of the line.

Armin quickly shut his door and leaned against it. "Yeah! I am just fine! I am fantastic! Everything is…good…" He chewed on his lower lip to try and keep his voice from shaking.

Mikasa let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, what's wrong? I know you're not busy with anything, and I know that something's the matter."

"N-No, really, nothing is wrong. I really am just fine."

"Armin. Please. Just talk to me."

"Really, Mikasa, I'm—"

"Armin."

Armin held his breath when she said his name so sharply. There was no hiding secrets from Mikasa, he knew, and he wanted to tell her what was bothering him so deeply, but he couldn't bring himself to reveal the truth. This was a dangerous situation he had put himself in and the last thing he wanted was to put his best friend right there with him. Mikasa had a habit of jumping to conclusions and being hot-headed every once in a while, and if she knew that he was in such a mess right now there was no telling what she would do. All he knew was that it was best to keep her out of the loop for now.

"I'm…" He let out the air held in his lungs, then started again. "I'm gonna throw up."

"Wait, what?"

"I-I'm gonna throw up. I'm gonna go throw up. My coffee didn't settle well with me and I'm gonna go puke. Right now."

"Wait a second, are you sick?"

"No, I'm okay, I'm just gonna go puke. I'll call you back."

He hung up before she could get another word in. He stuffed his phone back into his pocket and breathed deeply and rapidly. He wrapped his arms around his torso and sat on the floor, still leaning his back against the door. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head atop them. He let his arms fall to his sides as he tried his best to regulate his breathing.

"What am I doing…?" he asked himself once again. "What am I doing?"

He lifted his head up once he managed to get himself under control once more. When he was ready, he slowly stood back up and moved away from the door, supporting his own weight once again. He took a few more deep breaths, prepared himself for what was outside of his bedroom, and opened the door.

He stepped out, shut the door behind him, and looked straight at the couch. However, where there had once been small feet, there was now nothing. Only a rumpled-up blanket remained. The couch was otherwise tidy and seemed as if nobody had sat there in days.

Armin furrowed his brow and looked around the room. Had she moved, he wondered? He walked around quietly as he searched his nearly empty living room for her. There weren't many places to hide aside from behind the couch or on one side of the small television, and once he had searched those areas he promptly gave up.

"Did I imagine her?" he whispered out loud. He glanced around the living room once more before sitting on the couch, feeling very unnerved. "There's no way I could have imagined her, though."

His memory of seeing her, grabbing her hand, and helping to clean the blood from her skin and clothes was incredibly vivid. He remembered the texture of the still damp plasma as it sank between his fingers, the stinging in his lungs as he ran home with her as fast as he could, the coolness of the water as it flowed out of the tap and onto the awaiting washcloth he held. He could still see her icy blue eyes, terrified when they first met, then almost emotionless as he led her inside his apartment. There was too much that could be recalled for him to believe that she was fake.

A loud crash from the kitchen snapped him out of his thoughts. He jumped to his feet and dashed down the hallway to get there.

He stopped in the doorway when he noticed what had made the sound. Leaning down to pick up a fallen frying pan was the girl he had led home. She was no longer wearing the clothes he had found her in, but was now wearing one of his old t-shirts that was slightly too big for her and a pair of his boxers. Her hair was damp and untied, and her skin looked much cleaner now than he remembered.

"O-Oh! Um…" Armin blinked rapidly as he stared at her, hoping desperately that she wasn't an illusion. "Uh…"

"Good morning to you, too," she said blankly, not bothering to look up at him. She grabbed the frying pan by the handle and walked over to the stove. She set it on a burner, then turned around to rifle through the few cabinet doors that she had left open. "I'm making pancakes."

"P-Pancakes…?" he asked. "Why are you making pancakes in my kitchen?"

"You don't want them?"

"Well, I mean…"

"You do or you don't."

He thought about telling her to get out of his home, to not mess around with stuff, to go far away and not infiltrate his life, but he couldn't deny that he was very hungry and pancakes sounded very nice. "I…do?"

"Good." She grabbed for a box of batter mix on a higher shelf, but couldn't quite reach it. She jumped a few times to try and get to it before quickly giving up. She turned around and looked Armin dead in the eye. "Come get this for me."

"Oh! Um… Okay." He hurried over and stood right next to her, his upper arm brushing against her shoulder. He stood up on his toes to reach the box, just barely able to grab it, then passed it down to her.

She took it from his hands, set it on the counter, then pointed up to a bowl on a higher shelf. "Grab that, too."

He strained to get to it, but it was too high up for him. He sighed and lowered his arm.

"Hang on," he mumbled as he lifted his leg to set it on the countertop. He carefully balanced himself before trying to bring the other one up. It hit the edge of the counter, though, and he lost his balance. He stumbled and fell from the high surface. He managed to catch himself once his feet touched the floor again, however, and he held onto the counter to steady himself once more.

"Graceful," she muttered as she hopped onto the counter with one fast jump. She stood up straight and took the large, plastic bowl in her hands gingerly. She turned and kneeled down to hand it to Armin.

He took it from her with unsteady hands, then looked up at her as she climbed back down slowly. He was almost positive that she could have done it swiftly, but she chose to take her time.

She took the bowl back from him and set it next to the box mix. She turned and walked towards the fridge to search through it for other ingredients.

"Um…" Armin slowly approached her from behind, being careful not to catch her off guard. "So, I was wondering… What's your name?"

"Peggy."

He raised an eyebrow at her and cocked his head to the side. "Peggy?"

"No."

He paused and looked away from her. "Uh…"

"I like Elise more."

That name seemed more believable to him, but he still wasn't sure if she was messing with him or not. "Elise…"

"Or maybe Christine." She grabbed two eggs out of a carton and carried them to the counter.

"Well, which is it?" Armin asked in a confused tone.

"Pick one and go with it," she said as she returned to the fridge.

"Can't I know your real name?"

"No."

"Why not? I brought you into my home when you needed me to and I helped you out and I…" His face flushed and he looked away for a moment. "I apparently lent you my clothes." He turned his attention back to her. "Don't I at least deserve to know your name?"

"No. Do you like cinnamon?"

Armin stared at her in silent shock. He supposed that he could understand why she wouldn't want some people to know her real name, but it still perplexed him how she could be so stand-offish to the one person that showed her kindness after she had apparently gotten herself into a good deal of trouble. He exhaled through his nose and went to sit down at the table. He balanced his elbow on the surface and rested his head in his hand as he watched her work. "Are you sure that you won't tell—"

"I asked a yes or no question."

Armin sighed once again. He crossed his arms, laid them on the table top, then buried his face in them.

"Yes, I like cinnamon," he mumbled.

After 20 minutes of preparation (which included having Armin run to the store down the street to get buttermilk) and another 10 minutes actually making the pancakes and brewing some coffee, the two were finally able to sit down and have their breakfast. The atmosphere was tense, and they spent most of their meal in silence. Armin made the occasional compliment, noting how nice the pancakes tasted with the cinnamon and how strong and rich the coffee was, but the woman seemed to not notice a single one as she continued to eat slowly. He finally gave up on trying to start a conversations and sipped at his coffee once he had finished eating.

The sun was finally starting to get a little warm as it rose higher and higher into the sky. It shined brightly through the lone window in the kitchen, illuminating the room. Armin truly loved being in this room at this time of day. It was the perfect place to watch the sun rise every morning, and whenever he had the time for it he would sit down and thoroughly enjoy it. The sun was well into the sky now, though, so instead of watching it rise he watched it as it began to hide behind the tree tops and make the world a little more vivid than it was a few hours ago.

He took another drink of his coffee and looked up at the girl. She was sipping orange juice from a plastic cup, having stated earlier that she only drank hot tea. Armin felt bad that he had to disappoint her by telling her that he didn't have any tea, but she seemed to perk up some when he offered orange juice instead.

"S-So, breakfast was really good," he said, nearly hiding behind his mug as he spoke. "Thanks again for making it."

"Mhm," she sighed as she stood up, taking her cup with her. She pushed her chair beneath the small wooden table and headed towards the hallway.

"Wait, where are you going?" Armin called out to her.

"I'm going to watch TV," she said plainly.

"Well, what do you like to watch?"

She stopped in the doorway and turned around to look at him. It was almost a threatening look, but there was also confusion and fear in it. Her body was tensed and she kept her arms close to her as if she were trying to shrink as far away from him as possible.

"You shouldn't get close to me," she stated. "I'm a dangerous criminal. I have hurt people and I will hurt them again if I have to. I might even hurt you in the process." She turned her whole body to face him, still keeping her guard firmly up. "They'll come looking for me eventually, and they'll find me. They might even find me here in your house, and you'll just get into a worse situation than you're already in. You could go to jail. You could even be killed. You don't want to go to jail, and you really don't want to die. Trust me." She turned away again and faced out towards the hallway. "But you probably don't want to take advice from me. I'm the scum of the earth. Why would anyone want to take advice from such a rotten person?"

Armin listened intently to what she had to say, soaking up each word like a sponge in water. He ran her words through his head a few times, picking them apart and paying meticulous attention to each one. It was obvious that each sentence she had spoken was laced with warnings, but something in his head screamed for him to ignore them. He knew that housing a criminal was illegal and could lead to more problems than was necessary, assuming that any of the problems were necessary to begin with, but there was something about this woman that made him want to try his luck. He couldn't tell what was making him feel this way, but he decided to go with it for the time being and fix it later if the need arose. He could come up with a backup plan later, but for now this would be his course of action. He took a deep breath and set his cup aside.

"I know this is a bad situation, and I know that you're scared. You're probably not as scared for me as you are for yourself, and I understand that, but I appreciate the concern anyways. Whatever you did was obviously terrible and it might not even be forgivable, but I don't know that for sure. All I know is that right now you're here, and, for as long as you'll let me, I'll treat you well and I'll try my best to help you. Bringing you into my home probably wasn't the best idea of mine, but I can try to make it better from here on out, I suppose. So let's at least start with some television."

The woman stood still as stone for a few seconds before looking over her shoulder at Armin once again. She stared at him with her chilling eyes, baring holes into his own deep blue orbs. They practically froze him down to his core, and for a moment he wondered if he had said something very wrong.

She looked away once again, and spoke quietly out towards the empty hallway, just loud enough for him to hear her words.

"My name is Annie."

Armin watched her walk off towards the living room, the couch giving an audible squeak when she sat down. He breathed slowly in and out through his nose, then quietly repeated the name she had given him a few times. It seemed to roll perfectly off of his tongue, as if it was meant to be there, resting on his lips and lingering in the air.

Annie.

As soon as he heard the television click on, he gathered his mug in his hands and hurried out to join her.


	3. Coffee Break

Absent Angels Chapter 3

Coffee Break

A week seemed to drag on longer than Armin ever could have imagined. His mornings grew agonizingly longer and his mind was a mass of questions that kept him awake all evening. Annie, however, seemed calm and well-rested. She slept on the couch each night and rose early to make food and shower. It surprised Armin how quickly and easily a woman that went through such trauma could bounce back to normal.

Although they had agreed to start learning about each other slowly and figure out what to do about their situation, Armin seemed to learn less and less about Annie with each passing hour. All he had managed to get out of her was that her name – her real name – was indeed Annie, she was 21 years-old, she didn't drink coffee, and that she wasn't from the area. Armin always tried to be as open about himself as he could in order to set an example for her and show that she didn't have to be afraid to open up about herself, but it didn't appear to work.

"You don't seem to really want to go anywhere outside," he said to her in passing one evening during one of their late night television binges.

"Well, why would I want to leave?" she mumbled in reply.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not from here, I get into some trouble, I end up lost, you drag me back to your house, and now here we are. This is the safest place I've been in a while. Why would I want to leave?"

Armin couldn't come up with a positive answer off the top of his head. "I'll get back to you on that, I guess."

After that, he decided to spend a large portion of his time trying to come up with a response that she would accept. Nothing that came to him, though, seemed to be good enough, he thought. He would need more time to deliberate on it.

Time passed slowly. Minutes turned to hours, and hours turned to days. By the time Friday came around, Armin was exhausted and had next to no answers but many more questions than he had at the beginning of the week.

"Maybe I just need an outside perspective," he thought as he dug through his wallet for any spare change he might have. He looked everywhere in the house that he could get to, hoping to scrounge up just a few spare dollars. He searched through couch cushions, jean pockets, the washer and dryer, and anywhere else that might be hiding a penny or two. He finally managed to find enough cash to afford two drinks from the coffee shop.

"Hey, I'm heading out," he called, unsure of where Annie was at. The only response he got was the sound of the shower turning on. He stood there and listened for a bit, oddly transfixed by the noise. It wasn't the response he was expecting, but it was a nice reminder that she was still close by. After a few seconds, he stepped out the front door and locked it behind him.

As always, the walk to the coffee shop was very short and pleasant. It was midday, so he suspected that Petra would be busy with the lunchtime rush, but he was sure that he could at least talk with her long enough to get her opinion on the strange situation he had found himself in.

Just as he thought, there was a line practically out the door of the shop. He sighed as he stepped into the queue, resigning himself to simply waiting. During the very early mornings, he didn't mind just letting himself into the coffee house before it was quite open (even though Petra always reprimanded him for it), but he would never think to jump to the front of a line of people at any time of day, no matter how well he knew the owner.

Armin peered around the people in front of him just to see how far he was from the counter. They were much busier today than they usually were. They typically served about one hundred people a day, according to Petra, with plenty of clients showing up in the early mornings, afternoons, and evenings, but today the shop was completely packed and it was only 1:00 PM. He was positive that he would be waiting for a rather long time, but he was sure he could wait it out.

He looked around at the décor of the coffee house. He never really payed close attention to it since he was always so accustomed to merely walking in and leaving. He rarely noticed any changes Petra made to the small but formal dining area or behind the counter. However, now that he had the time to take it all in, he let his eyes wander aimlessly amongst all of the furnishings and the like.

Petra really had an eye for interior design, Armin thought to himself. Every portrait and chair and decoration had its place and was not there without purpose whether or not anybody else knew. He was sure that some of the photos on the walls were new since he didn't recall ever seeing them before, and the tables had been moved around some, as well. It seemed to open the relatively small space up quite a bit, making it seem a good deal bigger than it really was.

"Welcome to Legion Coffee!" he could hear her calling from behind the counter to everyone. "Sorry for the wait!"

Nobody else looked up from what they were doing to pay her any mind. Armin raised his arm to try and get her attention, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the cash register and espresso machine long enough to notice him. He gave up after a few seconds and lowered it once more.

He sighed a little and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. He unlocked it and searched through his applications. He didn't keep any games on his phone, but he did keep music and photos that could easily entertain him when he went through them. He rifled through his pockets again to search for some headphones, but found none. "No music then," he mumbled to himself as he went to open his photo gallery.

A string of photographs appeared in an orderly fashion on the screen. Armin scrolled down some, scanning each picture quickly as he went. Once he reached the bottom, he selected a familiar image.

A snapshot of two young men enlarged, filling the entirety of the wide screen. One man, a younger Armin, had blonde hair that reached just above his shoulders, his blue eyes bright and cheerful. The other one had chestnut hair and gleaming green eyes that were full of life. They each had an arm slung over each other's shoulder and wide smiles stretched across their faces. They appeared to be standing in a field of tall, yellow flowers on a very sunny day.

Armin stared longingly at the dark-haired boy, examining every feature of him. His eyes, his smile, his hairline, the shape of his hand resting on Armin's shoulder, everything that he could see about him was captivating.

After a long moment, he finally closed the application and put his phone away. That was enough reminiscing for now. He could think on the past another day, he figured as the line moved forward. He was finally just one person away from Petra.

He looked up at the large, chalkboard menu behind the counter. It was mounted on a tall brick wall, the only brick wall in the building. Every other one was drywall painted a cool, dark brown, a fitting color for a coffee house.

He scanned over each item on the board. He knew very well what he wanted, but he wasn't sure what other drink to get. What did Annie even like, he wondered. He knew that she enjoyed tea, but what kinds? Fruit flavored teas? Black teas? Herbal teas? There were too many to choose from, and he knew next to nothing about tea to begin with. His specialty was coffee, and this was entirely out of his range of knowledge.

"Next in line, Mr. Arlert," Petra said delightedly. "I didn't think you'd come in today. And at a normal hour, too. Shocker."

Armin chuckled and reached for his wallet. "Yeah, definitely a shock."

"So, one medium roast, right?" She was already pressing buttons on the cash register before he could even reply.

"Actually, can I get one of those and a medium…um…" He stared intently at the menu. "Uh… W-What would you recommend for tea?"

"Tea?" Petra asked. "You don't drink tea. Why are you asking?"

"Oh! Uh, well, I have a friend staying over for a while and she's, um, sick right now. So I decided to get her some tea."

"Ohhh, a "friend," huh?" she said in a suggestive tone.

Armin's face flushed a dark pink and he raised a hand defensively. "It's not like that! She's just here visiting, really!"

"Uh-huh." Petra raised an eyebrow at him. "And how long is she staying for?"

"I-I don't actually know yet. We're trying to work that out."

"Tell her she can stay forever."

"I can't do that. Besides, I only have one bedroom."

"One bedroom is just enough for you two."

"Petra!" Armin finally sighed and began pulling money out of his wallet. "One medium roast and one medium whatever-flavor-tea-you-pick." He set the money on the counter a bit harder than he intended.

"What manners," Petra said sarcastically as she picked everything up. "And where's my $5.00 tip?"

"Tomorrow," Armin replied calmly.

"Fine, fine…" She pressed a few more buttons, and the cash tray opened wide. She counted out what change needed to go in, and gave Armin back what he didn't owe. "I guess I'm just not good enough for a tip at all, huh?"

Armin smirked and searched through his spare change. He found a single penny, picked it up, held it over the nearby tip jar, and mockingly dropped it inside.

"Rude!" Petra laughed loudly as she walked over to pass his order along, crumpling up his copy of the receipt and throwing it away. She already knew that he didn't care to take it with him. "Go wait over there or something!"

Armin chuckled as well and walked to the left to wait with other customers on his order. He looked behind the counter and into the kitchen to see who was on the job today.

Gunter and Eld seemed to be the only employees working. Gunter was busy filling orders and getting them from Petra, while Eld carefully cleaned everything up for upcoming orders and occasionally made a coffee or two. They worked quickly and in relative silence, seeming to understand what they needed to do and where they needed to go without being told a single thing. They were practically in sync with each other as they worked at top speed.

"Rose smoothie!" Gunter called to the crowd as he set the cool beverage on the nearby bar. A young woman walked up and took the drink silently before walking out of the shop. Gunter paid her no mind as he went straight back to work.

"Hm," Armin hummed as he watched the two men. None of them knew him very well, and he didn't usually speak to them aside from saying hello whenever he came in while they were on the clock. Petra was very fond of them, though, he knew. He recalled her telling him once that they had all met in college and stayed close friends for years after.

"Café mocha!" he called out next, and another customer stepped up to receive their order. Gunter went straight back into the kitchen area without missing a beat.

The cycle continued for a while until Gunter finally called for his medium roast and tea. They each gave each other a polite greeting before Armin left the shop and hurried back home, enjoying his coffee as he went.

"Annie," Armin called out as he haphazardly opened the door, holding his drinks awkwardly in his arms in order to not drop them. "Annie, I'm back." He kicked the door shut behind him, not bothering to look around the room until he was sure it was closed.

"Welcome back," Annie mumbled from the floor. She was dressed in a fresh pair of Armin's boxers and a clean, grey shirt that he was probably overly fond of. She was resting in a plank position, but did not stay that way for long as she continued to do push-ups. A thin layer of sweat coated her forehead.

Armin furrowed his brow at her. "U-Um…"

"What?" She paused once more to give him an exasperated look.

He stayed silent as he tried to form the sentence in his head. "I'm just…wondering what you're doing."

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Armin went silent once more. "Push-ups…?"

Annie nodded slowly, then returned to her work out once more. "You can join me if you want."

"Oh, I'm not really into exercising," he admitted quietly. "But I did bring you some tea from the coffee shop."

"What flavor?"

"Oh, well, uh…" He brought the cup closer to his face and breathed in the fresh aroma. "I'm not sure…"

Annie let out a sharp sigh and abandoned her spot on the floor. She crossed the small room towards Armin and took the cup from his hands. She brought it to her lips and carefully sipped the hot beverage. She pulled it away once she had gotten a good taste of it and took a moment to consider the flavor.

"It's chamomile," she said plainly before handing the cup back to him. "It'll make me tired. I'm not ready to sleep."

"Oh, okay," he replied, looking down at her. "Do you want me to save it for later?"

"No. I don't really like chamomile. You can have it."

"I don't drink tea, though."

"Well, now you can start." She went back to her previous spot on the floor and continued her workout.

Armin huffed in frustration and walked over to the coffee table to set it down. "I'll just leave it here, then, in case you change your mind."

"What do you want to do for dinner?"

Not expecting her to reply, Armin turned and looked at her strangely. "Dinner?"

Annie didn't miss a beat as she continued to exercise. "Yeah."

He only spent a moment thinking about it. "Um… I don't know, what do you want?"

"I can't decide."

"Well, now you can start," Armin smirked at her.

She stopped doing push-ups to look up at him with a dirty glare. "No need to be so rude to me."

Armin's jaw fell open some as he stared at Annie incredulously. "I'm being rude to you?"

"I am your guest." She stood up and brushed herself off. "You should be treating me like royalty, right?"

"The only reason you're here is because you needed help!" Armin began to raise his voice as he spoke to her.

"But you haven't asked me to leave yet."

"Because you might get hurt out there!"

"So you do care about me." Annie didn't seem shaken in the slightest.

"No, I don't. I don't like that you've taken over my house and that I know nothing about you and that you speak down to me and act as if I actually want you here."

"So you don't want me here but you won't make me leave because you don't want me to get hurt? Sounds like you care."

"Stop it."

"Why don't you just admit it already?" Annie said loudly. "You're afraid of me and you want to get on my good side because you think I've done something dangerous and that I might hurt you."

"Th-That's not it…!"

"Stop lying!"

"I said that's not it!"

"You just want to save your own ass!"

"Stop making assumptions about me!"

"Then stop making them about me! Don't assume that I'm dangerous and treat me like some mad dog that you think will bite you!"

"Well maybe I wouldn't think this way about you if you were just honest about what you did!"

"I just got hurt, okay?"

"Now _you're_ lying."

"Why do you care? You've already admitted that you don't give a shit about me!"

"Just tell me who you killed, Annie!"

Silence fell over them instantly. It was thick and stale and left a nauseous feeling in Armin's stomach when he realized that, for the first time since Annie had come into his life, he was right about her. He started to breathe a little faster and his heart raced. A thin layer of sweat coated his brow quickly, nearly rivaling hers. He began to study the woman before him.

Annie seemed scared, angry, shocked. Her eyes were wide and her skin was growing paler than it was initially. She didn't move a muscle. She stood completely still for a long period of time. When she finally did move, she raised her arms and brought her hands together, the knuckles of one resting hard against the palm of the other. She pressed down harder and a loud cracking noise filled the room for a split second.

"Very good," she finally whispered, her face still contorted with negative emotions. "You did it. You figured it out." She let her arms fall to her sides once more. "So what are you going to do about it now? Do you feel better about wanting to get rid of me? Do you feel unsafe knowing that you're harboring a murderer under your roof? Once they find me, they'll find you, too, and you'll be hauled off to prison with me. And I know they're looking for me. Why do you think I never leave? I don't want to be incarcerated. I don't want to go to prison. And you don't either." She stared hard at him, then let out a low groan and buried her head in her hands. "You shouldn't have found out… Nobody should have found out."

Armin opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He didn't know how to reply to any of what she was saying. He swallowed, then tried once again. "Annie, I—"

"No. Don't say anything," she mumbled.

Complying with her request, Armin nodded and stepped away from her to give her space.

They stood together in another long silence, this one increasingly more painful as it went. Annie kept her face hidden in her palms, and Armin contemplated what should be done now. He knew that the logical thing to do would be to get her out of his life and into a jail cell as soon as possible, but he couldn't. At least, not now. Annie was right about one thing: The police would definitely arrest him for letting her live in his house. The situation had grown so fragile in a matter of seconds, and it left Armin feeling drained and anxious.

"Okay," he breathed after some time. He waited for Annie to yell at him, to tell him not to speak, but she didn't protest any further. "You're right. I shouldn't have found out. But I did, and now here we are. So what can we do about this?"

Annie finally raised her head to look at Armin, her eyes a bit puffier than earlier. "You can kick me out if you want. I'm sure it won't be too hard."

For a moment, he actually considered letting her leave. He considered telling her to walk out the door. He considered lashing out at her and not holding back. But he knew that making her go wouldn't fix anything. It would only make it worse, he though. If she was found out, could he really act like he didn't care? If she was imprisoned, could he pretend that it didn't matter? If anything were to happen to her at all, could he forgive himself?

"Well!?" Annie yelled, forcing Armin to pay attention to her once more. Her fists were clenched tightly in front of her face and both of her arms trembled violently.

He stumbled over his words at first, struggling to form the right sentence, fumbling with his hands as if they somehow held the answer to his problems but it kept slipping between his fingers. "A-Annie," he finally managed to choke out quietly. "You don't… I mean, you really… Don't…" He took a deep breath and straightened his back. "You—"

"Stop stalling." Her voice was suddenly so cold and detached. She hid so well behind her icy stare that Armin was sure he wasn't looking at the same person from a few seconds ago.

He tore his gaze away from her once more, keeping his eyes focused on her feet, the farthest thing from her face that was still a part of her. They were covered in small cuts, some old and some new. He wondered for a moment what she had been through to earn them, but decided that now wasn't the time to ponder over that.

"Don't leave," he said plainly, staring at the wall behind her in order to avoid her harsh stare. "There are a lot of things I want you to do, but I really don't want you to leave. It's not safe for you out there. It's not safe for a lot of people. So just…stay here." He glanced at her for a short moment, then looked back to the wall. "We can figure this out. I'll come up with something. For now, just stay here. Don't leave. Please."

A tense silence grew between them, something that wasn't entirely unwelcome to Armin. It gave him a reason to retreat to his bedroom after a few seconds, not bothering to look at Annie again. He shut the door behind him quietly and moved to sit on his bed, completely forgetting to kick his shoes off.

He stayed there, sitting as still as possible, listening for any sign of movement, for just under ten minutes. He practically managed to convince himself that she had actually left, but he couldn't get himself to believe that he had heard the front door open or close at all. He was mentally exhausting himself, he knew, and he couldn't bear it any longer. He stood up, hurriedly dressed into some warm pajamas, and turned off the lights.

He crawled into bed and checked the time on his alarm clock: 2:38 PM. It was still too early to end the day, but he didn't dare get up now that he was settled. Perhaps he could just nap for an hour or two, he hoped. He resigned himself to his fate, shutting his eyes and steadying his breathing.

His thoughts raced, and he couldn't manage to relax at all. His muscles were tight and his anxiety was getting worse by the second. Would she leave while he was resting, he wondered? Would someone find her if she left? Would she tell them about him? Would he be found out too? Was he already in too deep? At some point, all of his thoughts blended together and he couldn't differentiate where one ended and another began.

Eventually, Armin managed to drift off to sleep, desperately hoping that when he woke up Annie would be there, sleeping soundly on the couch, wearing his clothes that just barely fit her, looking much more at peace than either of them felt.


End file.
